


Never Felt So Alive

by queen_of_regrets



Category: Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead - Royal
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I tried my best, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Beethoven, Slow Build, but seriously there need to be more of these, jk, kinda??, the happy alternate ending fic you never knew you needed, they're 'together' but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-10-03 19:30:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10255976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_regrets/pseuds/queen_of_regrets
Summary: Beethoven shook his head in disbelief, “So let me get this straight . . . . you’re going to just abandon your friend group, and essentially throw away your reputation . . . to be with me?”“Yep.”“Well that’s extremely idiotic of you.”“Well you’re worth it.”orBasically, the events that could've happened if Matt had never made it to the auditorium.(Let's all just pretend that ending never occurred and everyone lived happily ever after - please)





	1. Bruising Black and Blue for You

**Author's Note:**

> Last weekend I saw 'Dog Sees God' during a theater competition my school was a part of, and this play - this fricking play - wRECKED ME. It was just so spectacular, you guys. I actually cried. But then later that night when I went to search for some fics on this absolutely amazing play, I only found less than a handful. And like next to none happy alternative ending fics?? 
> 
> I just had to write something. So yeah, here's my attempt at a contribution. 
> 
> Enjoy! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone.”

 

Beethoven almost sighed in relief, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment that followed, “Thank you.”

 

“But eat something. You’re too skinny.”

 

The urge to roll his eyes at CB was a strong one, “Fine.”

 

CB took a moment to look him over once more, a mixture of emotions crossing over his features before he grabbed his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder as he made his way toward the door.

 

Beethoven felt his stomach sink. CB hadn't gotten what he was trying to say. He wanted - he _needed_ him to understand. Before he could think better of it, he called out, “CB.”

 

The other stopped, hand already on the door handle as he turned back around to face him.

 

“Just,” in that split-second, he paused.

 

Just what? How was he supposed to word this? How could he possibly get it through his thick skull that he did, he _really_ did want to be with him. But that he just _couldn’t_. It was too much. He couldn’t handle it. Not now.

 

CB was still staring at him, hand still on the door handle, patiently waiting for him to say something.

 

“Just give me time.”

 

CB blinked, then gave him a small nod, “Yeah.” he murmured, the corner of his lip quirking up into something resembling a smile. Then he twisted the door handle, and walked out the door.

 

As soon as the door swung shut, Beethoven allowed himself to smile, “Oh my _god”_ he breathed to himself, as he turned back to the piano and resumed playing ‘Revolutionary Etude’ by Chopin.

 

He couldn’t stop smiling.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Beethoven didn’t see CB the next day. Nor the day after that.

 

He tried not to think much of it. He _had_ told CB that he needed time. And admittedly, his absence did allow for Beethoven to finally have peace again during lunch in the auditorium. Playing the piano without any distractions really helped clear his head and forget about how incredibly fucked up his life was. Especially as of late.

 

The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the school building though. Ever since the incident at the party, everyone had gone from blatantly ignoring his existence, to openly staring and whispering to each other as he passed by. The name calling had gotten worse too. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle it. If anything, he was mostly glad that no one had physically assaulted him yet. CB probably had something to do with that - what with his threat to everyone that dared to mess with his “boyfriend” (Beethoven still didn’t know how he felt about _that_ part). The worst he’d gotten since then were glares followed by a string of a few choice curses. And they’d only seemed to increase by tenfold since the last time he had actually caught sight of CB.

 

He tried to ignore it - the glares, the name-calling, the sense of worry slowly gnawing away at his insides. He tried.

 

A full week passed by before he saw CB again.

 

He hadn’t noticed that he had walked into the auditorium until he had plopped down on the piano bench next to him without any warning, nearly giving him a heart attack.

 

Immediately he turned toward CB with an irritated remark on the tip of his tongue but stopped short at the sight of him.

 

Don’t get him wrong, CB pretty much looked exactly the same as when he’d last seen him - that’s if you didn’t count the massive swollen black-and-purple bruises that were now adorning his face.

 

“What fuck happened to you?!” Beethoven tried to keep the sudden surge of panic and concern out of his voice, but he wasn’t exactly sure if he’d succeeded.

 

CB didn't respond at first, instead choosing to examine him with such intensity that Beethoven began to fidget in discomfort.

 

It seemed to take a couple seconds for his question to sink in, “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” CB mumbled, almost as if it were an afterthought, still continuing to scrutinize him, “But how have you been? Has anything happened recently?”

 

Beethoven couldn’t help but scoff, “You come walking in here looking like you’ve been run over by a bus, and you’re asking me how _I’ve_ been?” the idea was just simply too incredulous. He was about to go on further about the absurdity of it, when CB gave him a look. And his eyes - they looked so genuinely worried and concerned, that Beethoven’s words faltered before they’d even begun.

 

He sighed in resignation, “I’ve been fucking _fantastic._ How about you?”

 

CB frowned at his response, “I’m being serious.”

 

“So am I.” he replied warily, taking a moment to look over CB himself. Other than the bruises, he really did look exactly the same. Except now, he seemed a lot more tense, and kept staring at him like he was afraid that Beethoven might disappear if he took his eyes off him. It was kind of low-key freaking him out, “CB?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What the hell happened?”

 

CB shrugged, briefly glancing back at the door to the auditorium.

 

“Nothing.” Beethoven gave him a skeptical look, “ _Really_. I just got into a fight. Suspended for a week. No big deal.” he avoided looking at Beethoven this time, which was somehow even stranger than the intense staring.

 

“If it’s no big deal then why are you acting so weird?” Suspended? How had he not heard about this? He squinted suspiciously at CB. He wasn’t telling him the whole story. Something was definitely off.

 

CB looked back at him, eyebrow raised, “Weird? Weird how?”

 

“Weirder than you usually are.” CB immediately looked away from him again. Beethoven felt a pang of sympathy, his voice taking on a softer tone, “Come on CB, what happened? Really?”

 

“ _Nothing.”_ CB stressed almost irritably, still refusing to meet his gaze, “It was just a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

 

“A misunderstanding.” Beethoven repeated, disbelief lacing his words. Really he knew he shouldn’t care. Normally when something like this happened to him, he pretty much used the same exact excuse to not talk about it too. Except this was _CB_ , not Beethoven. And this was a very un-CB type of thing for him to be doing.

 

Without thinking twice about it, Beethoven gently took a hold of CB’s chin and turned his face towards him again. CB’s eyes’ widened slightly in surprise, but he didn’t say anything.

 

“You’re telling me, you got all of these,” he murmured, running a thumb over a particularly nasty bruise on CB’s jaw, causing him to flinch, “From a _misunderstanding?”_

 

A pause, “Yes.”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“Well that’s your opinion then.”

 

Beethoven let go of his face, scowling, “Quit fucking around, CB. If you’re not going to be serious, you might as well leave and stop wasting my time again.”

 

That seemed to do it, “ _Fine._ ” CB sighed, seemingly in defeat. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, “Just . . . . give me a second.”

 

He didn’t respond. He simply waited, watching as CB remained in his current position and continued to breath deeply. In and out. In and out.

 

Realizing that he probably wasn’t going to be speaking for a while, Beethoven turned back to the piano and instinctively resumed what he’d been playing before he’d been effectively interrupted.

 

He was nearly done with the song, when CB finally spoke up, “I ran into Matt on the way out of here last week.”

 

Beethoven abruptly stopped playing, heart stopping as he turned to look back at CB whose eyes were still closed.

 

CB had run into _Matt_? Well shit this couldn’t be good.

 

“He was going in the direction of the auditorium.” CB continued, seemingly unaware of the heart palpitations Beethoven was experiencing, “I don’t even think he saw me at first. Or well, he didn’t until I stopped him that is. Honestly I probably would’ve just kept on walking. He was one of the last people I wanted to see at that moment. Except he just looked downright _livid_ , and . . . I’ve seen how he gets when he’s that pissed. It’s usually best to try to intervene before he goes off on whoever’s his target. And besides, he was heading towards the auditorium, so . . .”

 

He paused and opened his eyes, glancing back at Beethoven, “I kinda assumed the worst.” he murmured, looking down at his lap, “And I was right. As soon as I asked him where the hell he was going, he just starts screaming about he’s going to go _fucking murder you_ for fucking around with my head and turning me into a vile, disgusting, barely even human piece of shit that’s just like,” CB barked out a sharp laugh with none of the humor, his hands clenched tightly into fists on his lap. With alarm, Beethoven took notice of just how much they were shaking, “Well what _he_ thinks, is just like you. He just kept going on and on, and I - ” he stopped, taking a sharp intake of breath in an attempt to calm himself down.

 

It took a moment before he had composed himself well enough to continue, “And I just couldn’t _stand_ listening to another fucking word of his. So I punched him. Right in his stupid fucking face. Probably broke his nose. And I just kept on punching. He got in a few too if you couldn’t already tell.” he said, motioning aimlessly to his face, “We probably would’ve kept going at it if a teacher hadn’t spotted us. Then we both got suspended. For a week.” he turned back to Beethoven, “And that’s the gist of it.”

 

They were both silent for a few moments, just staring at each other.

 

It was after a while that Beethoven realized CB was waiting for some sort of response, some sort of reaction, _anything._ So Beethoven responded with the only thing he could think of at the moment, “Oh.”

 

“Oh? Is that all you have to say? _Oh?_ ”

 

He turned back to the piano, purposefully not looking at CB, “Yeah pretty much.”

 

His head was spinning from this sudden overload of information coupled with a newfound thing to stress about. His fingers were itching to play the piano. He just really needed to do _something_ to clear his head.

 

Seeming to move on their own accord, his hands began to play a simple tune, one that didn’t require much concentration, as his thoughts were currently racing too fast for him to keep up. He tried his best to ignore the increasingly fast paced beat of his heart resonating within his ears.

 

This was exactly what he’d been dreading. If Matt was willing to do that to CB, his _best friend_ , then what the hell would he end up doing to Beethoven next he saw him? This thing between him and CB was never going to work.

 

He tried his best to keep the escalating panic out of his face as he thought more and more about it, but that didn’t exactly work out.

 

CB groaned, “See, _this_ is why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place! You’d just start getting worked over nothing!”

 

Beethoven’s fingers slammed into several keys, making CB jump at the sound, as he turned sharply to glare at him with incredulity, “ _Nothing?!_ ”

 

CB sighed in exasperation, “Just - look, if it’s any consolation, this,” he said, gesturing to his face, “Isn’t even nearly as bad as what I did to Matt.”

 

“How is that a consolation?!”

 

“I dunno.” he shrugged, “Matt’s not going to be a problem anymore, I guess. Especially after what happened.”

 

“Just because he’s not going to be a problem for you, doesn’t mean that’s going to be the same case for me. In fact, I think you just made things ten times worse than they were before.”

 

CB grimaced, looking away, “Yeah I know.” if Beethoven didn’t know any better, he’d say he looked somewhat ashamed, “That’s why I’m staying here with you from now on.”

 

Silence.

 

“You’re . . . . . what?”

 

“What? You honestly think after all that I’m just going to go back and continue to hang out with all those guys like nothing happened?” he scoffed, “Nu-uh, I’m staying right here with you.”

 

Beethoven didn’t know whether he should be highly annoyed or flattered. He decided both, both is good.

 

“I don’t need a bodyguard, CB. I can take care of myself,” he immediately retaliated. But that was a lie, and both of them knew it.

 

“Doesn’t matter. I’m still staying.”

 

“Aren’t you at least somewhat worried what everyone else is going to start thinking of you?”

 

“Fuck those guys. Who cares what they think?”

 

Beethoven shook his head in disbelief, “So let me get this straight . . . . you’re going to just abandon your friend group, and essentially throw away your reputation . . . to be with _me?_ ”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Well that’s extremely idiotic of you.”

 

“Well you’re worth it.”

 

Beethoven automatically blushed, ducking his head in attempts to cover his face, “ _Please_ stop doing that.”

 

CB just gave him a mischievous smile, leaning toward him, “Doing what?” he asked, feigning innocence.

 

“ _That!”_ Beethoven practically exclaimed, leaning away from CB scowling slightly, “If you’re going to be staying here, you have to stop distracting me.”

 

“Oh so I’m a _distraction_ to you now?” CB teased, his mischievous grin growing.

 

Beethoven groaned, “Oh for christ’s - right, you know what? Go over there, be quiet so I can actually practice, and I won’t make you leave. Deal?”

 

CB raised a eyebrow him, amusement clear on his face, “Yeah, sure thing. Love you too, Beethoven.” he sighed, then quickly pecked Beethoven on the cheek before hurriedly standing up and making his way to the other side of the room.

 

 _Goddammit,_ Beethoven cursed silently to himself, as he hide his now profusely red face behind his hands.

 

CB was going to be the death of him.

 


	2. The Seeds of Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re going to disappoint him. You won’t live up to his expectations. He’ll leave. You’ll be alone. Again.  
> But since when did you care about any of that?
> 
> or
> 
> Beethoven's stresses continue to grow whilst he deals with his cripplingly low self-esteem and an inkling of doubt that has started to take root in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly the amount of positive feedback that I received on the last chapter sHOCKED ME. Like I wasn't expecting anyone to actually read and like this thing at all. 
> 
> Thank you?? So much?? I'm crying??
> 
> But anyway, here's another update!
> 
> Enjoy! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

“Hey, Beethoven?”

 

The music stopped, followed by an irritated sigh, “ _What?”_

 

It’d been like this for a little over two weeks now. Miraculously, he’d somehow managed to avoid Matt and the others during that time. But that was probably due to the fact that him and CB were now practically attached to the hip wherever Beethoven so happened to go within the school building.

 

Getting him to leave was out of the question. Every time he tried to bring it up, CB just waved off the notion, or, worse, gave him this beaten puppy-dog expression that brought his words (and heartbeat) to a stuttering halt. He’d stopped trying days ago, resigning himself to have to deal with CB until the day they graduated (maybe even longer . . . but he didn’t want to think about that right this second).

 

It was odd. He was so used to just keeping his head down and steadfastly ignoring everyone as he quickly wove his way through the halls. Now he had to deal with CB’s chatty presence every step of the way. Well, ok, chatty was the wrong word. He didn’t always talk. But he was always _there_. Beethoven still wasn’t entirely sure how he should be feeling about that.

 

“What’s three times nine?”

 

Beethoven looked up at CB over the top of the piano incredulously, “Please tell me you’re joking.”

 

CB simply blinked back at him from his laid-back position on the other side of the room, “I forgot my calculator. And you’re smart, so what is it?”

 

“You need a calculator for _that?_ Did you just immediately forget your times tables the second you learned them all the way back in- what? Third grade?”

 

The other rolled his eyes in response, “Well _duh._ You don’t really need to know that crap in real life. That’s what a calculator’s for. Besides, I’m the one that’s in dumb math, not you. So what's the answer?”

 

“I didn’t sign up to be your fucking tutor, CB,” the pianist responded tiredly, turning his eyes back to the partially blank sheet music scattered across the music rack before him, “Either figure it out by yourself or go find another calculator.”

 

Ignoring CB’s half-hearted whines, Beethoven picked up his pencil, and returned to what he had been doing before he’d been interrupted - _again._ Twirling the pencil in his fingers, he glared at the sheet music marked with his own hastily scribbled notes, trying to determine the error that was pulling this whole piece apart. After a minute he erased an entire six measures, destroying a third of what he’d come up with so far.

 

The notes were just . . . _wrong_ . The whole damn thing was _wrong._ None of it, not one single thing, sounded right. The notes were clashing instead of melding, completely going against what he was going for. The sound was grating and unpleasant to the ear. _It just wasn’t right._ And he didn’t know how to fucking fix it.

 

Beethoven groaned in frustration, dropping his head into his hands. Massaging his temples, he briefly closed his eyes, trying his damned darn hardest to think of an alternate arrangement of notes.

 

He didn’t particularly like composing music. He’d much rather play a piece of someone else’s making than come up with one himself. Unfortunately, his music teacher had thought his class needed the extra challenge. In the form of a major project that’s worth most of their final grade no less.

 

“I won’t lie, composing music is not an easy task,” Mrs. Rivera had said very ‘encouragingly’, to his class the day prior, “It requires a great deal of passion and determination. You have to be willing to capture and bare your soul out to the world. Really dig deep down within yourself and find what it is that defines you.  I want this piece to represent _you._ It may sound impossible, maybe beyond the limits of your hard-earned talent. But,” and in that moment the teacher’s gaze seemed to focus solely on Beethoven, “I believe you can do it.”

 

Beethoven opened his eyes, head still in his hands. She was wrong. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have what it takes. And like hell was he going to ‘bare his soul’ to anyone in this godforsaken school. Granted, his music class did mainly consist of some of the other social outcasts and pariahs among the school. But even _they_ avoided him like the plague.

 

He heaved a long, slow, sigh. At least the one good thing about this stupid project was that it provided him something else to focus on rather than -

 

“Whatcha working on?”

 

_Him._

 

Beethoven slowly lifted his head to bring his tired gaze up to meet CB’s. He was casually leaning against the piano, arms crossed over the lid as his eyes flicked curiously between Beethoven’s face and the papers spread across the music rack.

 

“Project,” Beethoven muttered wearily, running a hand through his hair. He glanced back at his array of sheet music, before quickly looking away again. It was painful even just _looking_ at that horrendous assignment.

 

A few minutes ticked by without another word from either of them, prompting Beethoven to actually look up at him - only to find CB’s gaze fixated on him in a thoughtful manner.

 

He could feel the heat beginning to rise up his neck, “What?”

 

CB blinked, “You look fucking exhausted.”

 

“No shit.”

 

A humorous (and oddly fond?) smile flickered across CB’s face, before he swiftly rounded the piano and joined him on the bench. Beethoven eyed CB warily as he snatched one of his papers off of the music rack, “What are you doing?”

 

“Helping.” CB stated plainly, staring intently at the music notes in front of him. A minute had barely passed when he immediately handed the sheet back to Beethoven, “Nevermind, I have no idea what any of this means.”

 

Really it wasn’t even that funny. But Beethoven couldn’t help the short burst of laughter that broke out of him in that moment, his previously sour mood lifting ever so slightly.

 

He didn’t miss the delighted look that instantly overtook CB’s face.

 

It was adorable.

 

 _He_ was adorable.

 

Beethoven was so screwed.  

 

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” he coughed awkwardly, trying to suppress his former amusement, as he placed the paper back onto the piano, “Don’t you have your own homework you need to be getting back to?”

 

“Nah, I think I’d rather avoid that for a little while longer,” CB said, bracing his hands on the back edge of the piano bench and leaning back, “Why don’t you just play it for me?”

 

Honestly those eight tiny words shouldn’t have initiated the cold wave of dread that immediately washed over him, turning his blood to ice.

 

“What?”

 

“Play it for me,” CB repeated, not catching onto Beethoven’s change in demeanor, “I mean, I’m no expert in music by a long shot, but maybe I could help? Maybe you just need someone else to hear it to get another . . . viewpoint, I guess?”

 

Beethoven’s mouth had gone dry. He could only stare blankly at CB as his mind struggled to comprehend this sudden tidal wave of fear.

 

He didn’t know why he was so terrified all of a sudden.

 

It wasn’t like he’d never played anything in front of CB before. Hell, he’d performed way more complicated pieces in front of the vast multitude of people he used to call his friends back in the day.

 

No, the playing wasn’t the problem.

 

The problem was the song.

 

It was raw. It wasn’t done. It most certainly wasn’t ready to be listened to by any means.

 

Not to mention that there was a big difference between CB half listening while his mind was elsewhere and CB giving his full judgmental attention.

 

What if he hated it? What if he never wanted to be around Beethoven ever again once he heard how horrible it was? Wait no, that was ridiculous. Why would CB ever do something like that? And why the hell did he care whether CB liked it or not? It wasn’t like his life would be drastically different if he didn’t like it or just left entirely. Right?

“Dude, stop thinking so hard. You’re gonna give yourself a headache.”

 

Beethoven snapped out of the thoughts threatening to take him under, and refocused on CB. The other had a peculiar expression on his face. As he continued to stare, Beethoven couldn’t help sinking back into those thoughts once more.

 

 _You’re going to disappoint him. You won’t live up to his expectations. He’ll leave. You’ll be alone._ Again.

 

_But since when did you care about any of that?_

 

“You know, you don’t have to play it if you don’t want to.” CB ventured tentatively, still giving him that odd look. A spark of annoyance flared up inside Beethoven at his tone, “It was just a suggestion. You don’t have to do it.”

 

“I know that,” he retorted, irritated at CB, at himself, at this stupid project, at whatever the hell this weird thing between them was, “It’s fine, I’ll play it.”

 

He _was_ being ridiculous, he firmly decided as he turned back to the piano. It’s just a stupid song for a stupid project. It’s not like CB won’t end up hearing it anyway, since he still has to work on it and for that he needs to actually play it.

 

Still, Beethoven couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

 

He cast one last futile glance at CB before he hesitantly placed his hands on the keys and began to play.

 

He stumbled over the first few keys. Not because he was nervous. No, definitely not. What was there to be nervous about? It was just a piece that he hadn’t exactly been practising at all beforehand, and that wasn’t even finished to begin with so of course it sounded horrible, just like everything else he’d ever attempted to create before in his life, utterly, despicably hor-

 

Ok he really needed to calm down.

 

Taking a deep breath, he let his fingers fly over the keys in quick succession, ignoring every remaining negative thought that flitted through his head. He still couldn’t help internally cringing at every wrong note he made. But he didn’t stop. He kept going until he’d landed the last note, then immediately ripped his hands off the piano as if he’d been burned.

 

The ending was abrupt - unexpected. As if it were on a cliff-hanger. Which made complete sense, seeing as how the song wasn’t even done. But that unpleasant sound still ringing in his ears didn’t sit well with him.

 

He steeled himself as CB hummed in thought for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. Finally CB opened his mouth to say, “Damn, that was ama-”

 

“Don’t you dare just tell me ‘it was amazing’ or some other shit like that.” he interrupted, fixing CB with a half-hearted glare, “That’s not going to help me, and you know it.”

 

As much as he’d rather let CB say what he wanted to hear, he knew in the end that his pointless praise would be worthless if he ever wanted to improve . . . or at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

 

The other huffed a laugh, smiling slightly, “Alright then. I guess it sounds,” he waved his hand listlessly in the air as if trying to conjure up the right word, “Lively? Or maybe panicky? But also kinda . . . sad? I don’t know, it was kinda a weirdly cool mixture of the two. Was that what you were going for? Because if it was, I think you’ve basically got it in the bag.”

 

Beethoven grimaced, “I’m not exactly sure what I’m going for to be honest.”

 

CB shrugged, “Well it’s just an assignment for school anyway. There’s not really any need to get so worked up over it. And knowing you, you’d probably pass with flying colors if you performed a rendition of some random nursery song anyway.”

 

He looked away from CB to stare at the worn ebony and ivory keys on the piano, brows furrowed, “Yeah . . . I guess you’re right.” he glanced up at the clock on the far wall, dimly noting that their lunch period was coming to an end. Instinctively, he swept up his papers, shoving them into his bag without a second thought. The sensation of the sheet music crinkling under his fingers was immensely satisfying. Normally doing such an act to a piece of music would have horrified him. But with his own composition he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

“Of course I’m right. You’re like a musical ge- wait where are you going?” CB suddenly asked, turning as Beethoven moved to stand up from the piano bench, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

 

Beethoven looked at him quizzically, “Lunch is over. We have to get to class, unfortunately.”

 

“Already?” he caught sight of the clock, “Damn. I didn’t even get to convince you to eat lunch!” his eyes widened, turning to Beethoven in joke accusation, “You distracted me!”

 

A scoff, “ _I_ distracted _you_?”

 

“Definitely. Making me fall for you is quite a hefty distraction,” he gave him a lopsided smile, making Beethoven’s stomach flip, which was honestly unfair because dear god he couldn’t handle the sheer amount of fondness being directed at him in this moment.

 

“Right, well, I’m leaving,” he swiftly turned on his heel, away from CB and his thoughts teetering on the edge of the rabbit hole containing ‘things-he-definitely-couldn’t-afford-to-think-about-right-now’.

 

He didn’t look back to see if CB was moving to accompany him. He didn’t need to. The hurried shuffling of papers and high-pitched grinding of zippers, followed by fast approaching footsteps in his wake was enough confirmation.

 

Of course CB was going to stick with him.

 

Of course he was.

 

Of course . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you happen to have your own personal headcanons about literally anything in 'Dog Sees God', I would honestly be THRILLED to hear them (^▽^) I have like a vague sort of idea of where this fic is headed and they would help a lot with writing future chapters. 
> 
> Also, do you think it would be a good idea to include a chapter or two (or even just half a chapter) with CB's perspective? I feel like I kinda need to work on his characterization a bit. Or maybe I could just occasionally have bonus chapters with CB's POV on scenes you'd like to see his perspective on? Or should I just keep this purely Beethoven POV? Honestly I have no idea, but I'd be down for whatever. (^_^)
> 
> Let's hope I'll be able to manage to squeeze in another update before this year is over.
> 
> Feel free to hmu [@queen-of-regrets](http://queen-of-regrets.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr (◠‿◠✿)

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh, it's such a relief to be finally publishing this (I've basically been working on this fic for what's felt like forever - and it's only the first chapter).
> 
> Here's hoping I'll actually update this thing more than once or twice a year.
> 
>  
> 
> Feel free to hmu @queen-of-regrets over on tumblr (◠‿◠✿)


End file.
